Fred's Funeral
by EleanorWeasley
Summary: My take on what George was like during Fred's Funeral. I know - I hated it when Fred died, but I needed it for this story. ONE-SHOT! COMPLETED! LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE A BOOK COVER!


A/N: Hey everyone! I know, I know; I said I would never kill Fred. But, as you can see from the title, it is kind of vital for this story. So, I was sitting watching on YouTube the Hogwarts song (it's a deleted scene from GOF – its really good) and I just got inspired to write this. So, I'm posting this story just now to make up for my other stories that I haven't updated in a while. Please review! I want to see what you think of this; I've never written something as sad as this

EleanorWeasley x

The wind whistled through the trees, the summer sun reflecting off of the raindrops that were balancing on the leaves. Birds sat perched upon branches, gazing down on the crowd assembled below, yet they did not make a single sound. It seemed the wrong kind of weather for a funeral – it was the exact opposite of everyone's emotions. Somber figures greeted one another, grasping each others hands and letting the tears fall. One lone figure sat isolated from the rest, underneath a large oak tree, taking in the scene before him. He should be the one crying the most. He should be the one accepting the condolences of other. And yet here he was, underneath a tree, not letting any tears fall, so he could keep his promise. It even hurt him to stand underneath this tree – it was _his _tree. The tree which his twin found whilst running away from his mother after setting her apron on fire. Since then, it became their meeting place, where they would devise their latest scheme, or hide from their overprotective mother. They would never be able to do that again; nothing would ever be the same without him. It had never really sunk in that he was gone. It was as if he would just turn the corner and ask everyone why they were dressed in ridiculously boring black suits. But that will never happen. For now, and for the rest of everyone lives, he lay still in a dark wooden casket, never to grace the earth with his laughter again.

A branch snapped behind the tree, and a girl stepped out. She could hardly be classed as a girl anymore. Gone was every ounce of her childhood, and in its place were the haunted eyes of someone who had lost, suffered and grieved as a result of the war. She was a girl who had had her youth snatched away from her too quickly. The woman rested her hand on the figures shoulder, and squeezed it in comfort. No words were necessary; the sorrowful emotion in her dark hazel eyes explained more than words ever could. It was time to go.

Hermione gripped his hand as they neared the group crowded around the headstone, and he only welcomed the pressure. There, standing in front of them, was every person that he had ever met. At the front of the large crowd stood his three older brothers. Bill and Charlie both had red-rimmed puffy eyes, and were both trying hard to conceal their tears, so as to show their younger siblings that they were strong enough to survive this emotional wreckage. On their other side of the two, stood Percy, who wasn't using any effort at all to hide his grief. Anyone could see that he blamed himself for the death of his brother. Ron was standing behind them, clinging tightly onto Ginny's hand. Both had fresh tear tracks marring their faces. Arthur was on his other side, seeking similar comfort by hugging Molly close to his chest, who was sobbing so loudly that she could hardly hear the soft words her husband was whispering in her ear. Harry stood quietly at the side, cradling a sleeping Teddy. Even although he was equally upset, he refrained from intruding on such an intimate family moment. He seemed to be hugging the sleeping infant closer to his chest than usual, seeking comfort that no one else could provide.

Hermione and her companion made their way to the front of the crowd, aware of the many stares and pitiful glances being sent their way, but they chose to ignore them. Unlike muggle funerals, the casket was levitated down into the ground, and as it neared the bottom, the lid dissolved, letting everyone see the broken body of Fred Weasley one last time.

A funeral march started in the background as the grave was filled, and it tore at the figures heart. It was the same melody that he and his twin had sung the Hogwarts song to back in their second year. As he sung the lyrics in his head, he noticed Hermione looking at him as she cleared her throat and began to sing;

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_

_Teach us something please_

Many people turned to stare at her, confused and horrified expressions on their faces, and Muriel could be heard from the back saying, 'Always knew she was a bit batty', but either Hermione didn't notice or she didn't care as she continued.

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees_

Hermione looked up at her companion and smiled as he stared down at her. It was at this moment that he realized what Hermione was trying to say. Fred wouldn't have wanted his funeral to be sad; he would have wanted it to be the greatest send off a wizard had ever had. And that is just what his twin decided to do, and so he joined Hermione in song.

_Our heads could so with filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

Ginny looked up from were she had been staring, and pulled Ron forward and they both began to sing.

_For now they're bare and full of air_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff_

By now, over half of the crowd were singing the school anthem, and smiles slowly started growing on their faces.

_So teach us things worth knowing_

_Bring back what we've forgot_

The garden of the Burrow was soon filled with singing and laughter, and the mournful mood that had threatened to crush the Burrow was long forgotten.

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest_

_And learn until our brains all rot_

As the song ended, a fresh onslaught of tears cascaded down the crowd's cheeks, but unlike the last time, these tears were full of joy as people remembered and exchanged stories of the deceased half of the Weasley Twins.

Amidst all of the chatter and laughter, Hermione never noticed a hand slip out of hers, and her companion walked away. The figure stood beside the grave and looked down at the headstone.

_Here lies Fredrick Gideon Weasley_

_Beloved Son, Brother, Twin and Friend_

_RIP_

_In flesh he is gone, in laughter he lives on_

The figure traced the quote at the bottom with his finger, and whispered the words under his breath. He and Fred had made the phrase up the day they started Potterwatch; it was t this time that they also promised each other that they would move on and not grieve if one of them didn't live to see the end of the war. The figure took forth from his pocket his twins DA coin, and dug a small hole with his hand and buried it. As he looked at the freshly dug grave, reality sunk in. His twin was never coming back. The Forge to his Gred was gone. He could never pretend that he was Fred. There would be no one to finish his sentences.

With these thoughts in mind, he sunk to his knees, put his head in his hands, and for the first time that night, George Weasley cried.

A/N; so I hope you liked that little one shot! Please review, even if it's to complain. I just want to know that people are reading this

EleanorWeasley


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